


Through The Looking Glass

by Alltheshrinks



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dark Universe, Foursome, Gay Sex, Incest, M/M, Multi, Parallel Universes, Sibling Incest, Spoilers up to season 11, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-02
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-07-06 02:26:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15876573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alltheshrinks/pseuds/Alltheshrinks
Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester are aware that parallel universes exist and have even been thrown into one. But what happens when they end up in one with their dark counterparts? Not just dark, but the King of Hell and a Knight, that is just as devoted to his Sam? How different are this world’s Winchester Brothers?





	1. Sammy, I Don’t Think We Are In Kansas Anymore

**Author's Note:**

  * For [@halfwit](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=%40halfwit).



> For my dear friend @halfwit, whom I’ve spoken to at length about Dark Mirror Universes. SPOILERS up through Season 11. Thanks to my dear friends Jenn and Dee for the beta.
> 
> Also: I hope you enjoy. Also -kudos are life and comments make me insanely happy. If you have questions or want to see something message me. My Twitter is All_the_Shrinks.

The rain pattered down on the roof of the 17th Century Victorian Mansion making a noise akin to maracas in the fist of an angry toddler, on the cusp of a tantrum. The deluge had begun hours ago and now lightning spread across the sky in tendrils of sparks and booming thunderclaps. Dean Winchester was crouched behind a decorative pillar in the antiquated sitting room. Hearing the increasing footsteps of his pursuers mixed with the thunderstorm outside, he silently mused that Heaven was angry with him and sending this Charlie Foxtrot just to screw with him.

****

Two days prior, Cas had stumbled back to the bunker, cursed and near rabid. Rowena was in the wind and she was the only one who could remove the attack dog spell. She was also in possession of the Book of the Damned and the Encrypted Codex that Charlie had given her life for; that kind of dark magic in the hands of a powerful witch was like a powder keg, waiting to go off and annihilate everything in its wake. They had to get it back, and then Dean was going to fill the evil hag with a clip of Witch Killing bullets.

Sam Winchester, Dean's younger brother, had spent all night in the archives of the Men of Letters, a secret society and foremost authority on the supernatural world and occult. He had found a mention of a family of witches that had helped the Men of Letters round up spell books and rare ingredients that essentially wreaked and rendered The Grand Coven of Witches obsolete. The files however, did not mention that Men of Letters, being the insolate douches they were, had also stolen many precious artifacts from said family and locked them away. That tiny bit of information could have saved the brothers from their current dire straits.

"So get this," Sam had begun his rundown of his findings, while his brother disassembled and cleaned his Colt 1911 at the table in the library. "The Hathornes were a very powerful family dating back to Colonial Times. After coming to America, they settled in Salem, Massachusetts, but left before the Salem Trials. They moved to Connecticut and became associated with some of the most powerful political families in the country at the time. Says here that they even helped The Men of Letters track down the Codex and other items to bring The Grand Coven to its knees."

"Are there any of them left?" Dean looked up at his brother, his field stripping of his weapon momentarily forgotten.

"Says here that an Esmerlda Hathorne still resides just outside New Haven, in a very small town called, Hathorne." Looking up from the folder, Sam smirked as he could almost see the wheels in his brother's head turn.

"Hathorne, huh? Well that's not ominous at all." Dean slid the firing pin back into his pistol without even looking. Thumbing the release, he pulled the slide back and then forward, chambering a round and rising from his seat in less than ten seconds. "Connecticut is a long way, let's get shaking."

  
****

To say that Esmerlda Hathorne was less than pleased to see the Winchesters was a vast understatement. She was actually quite livid that not only were they hunters, but Men of Letters. She had pinned Dean to the wall with a simple incantation, while fluidly easing into a villainous monologue that detailed why she would not be helping them. Dean heard very little of her grand standing as his windpipe was becoming smaller and the invisible pressure was causing black spots to appear in front of his eyes. He barely heard the gunshot, before the oxygen started to rush back into his lungs and a very dead, Esmerlda fell on top of him. Pushing her off and scrambling to his feet, Dean turned his attention to his brother. "Sam? You okay?"

"Fine, you?" Seeing the nod his brother gave him was only a momentary relief as he heard footsteps descending the stairs and towards the duo. "We've got to get out of here."

"No kidding," Dean quipped as he was already making his way toward the younger man with a purpose.

The blood curdling scream that was let out, was enough to spur Sam into action as he fired another round in the direction of the ruckus, then two more. None of the bullets hit their mark and the brothers darted around the corner, with Dean behind a marble structure and Sam scampering behind a huge iron adornment.

Catching the younger Winchester's eye, Dean gestured to the hallway across the room. Sam shook his head dramatically, to get to the hallway, they would have to cross the spacious room and right into path of the three remaining Hathornes and Sam only had 1 bullet left. The bullets in Dean's .45, were just normal hollow points, lethal to most, but if Esmerlda's three offspring were as strong as she had been, they were screwed. The gaze that Dean shot his brother, brooked no argument; he was going to cover his brother's escape route.

Pulling his own weapon from the back of his pants, Dean started a countdown on his fingers and rushed into the open area as soon as his hand turned into a fist. He fired off 4 rapid succession rounds that whizzed and ricocheted into the air and hurriedly scampered down the hallway in a half crouch, backwards. Upon rounding the corner, he turned and all but shoved his towering sibling further along their escape route.

Sam reached the first door in the dimly lit corridor and realized it was locked. Quickly checking the other four doorknobs that adorned the other oak portals in the hall, he pulled out his lock pick and shoved his small flashlight in his mouth. Dean had already assumed his position as cover as he waited impatiently for Sam to jimmy the lock. Finally hearing tumblers click as the impeding footsteps grew closer, Sam grabbed his brother's collar and dragged him into the room without preamble.

Taking in the spacious room, having just enough twilight to make out shapes, Dean wasted no time in throwing sheets off of the abandoned furniture in his current surroundings. Pulling one dust cover from a wooden monstrosity, he whispered to his companion. "Help me get this in front of the door".

Using brute strength that the years of hunting had afforded the men, the bureau was repositioned between them and the witches. Not even pausing to take in much needed oxygen, Sam ran to the closest floor window and groaned as he noticed iron bars on the near floor to ceiling glass pane. Just then the sky was illuminated and another thundering boom sounded, reverberating through entire house. A split second later and another loud noise shook the brothers so hard that their teeth clattered. This time, however, it wasn't from the costal swell that was taking place outside; it was coming from the other side of the wall. Their wooden barricade scooted back a good six inches and both brothers didn't make haste as they rushed to shove it back into place. The third thump threatened to dislodge them as they fought to hold the makeshift obstruction.

"What the hell are they using? A battering ram?" Dean asked in barely a whisper. Sam's reply was lost when another shockwave sent them both and the bureau flying through the air, and deposited face first on to the floor. Sam was on his feet again almost instantly and fisting a hand into Dean's jacket, the duo skidded behind a large piece of sheet covered furniture in front of the last window.

An eerie silence fell as they waited with bated breath for the door to open. It seemed like seconds, then again, like years before the door swung open and three occupants entered. Neither wanted to risk a glance around the makeshift hiding place, so Dean shut his eyes and allowed his hearing to heighten and listened intently. Light steps sounded first and he surmised that one of Esmerelda's two daughters was leading the charge. If he had to hazard a guess, it was Sarah. She was the oldest and moved with the grace and posture of a princess, not a centuries old witch. "No sense in hiding, I can hear your heartbeat." Her elegant, clipped speech filled the room and Dean lost his battle within himself to not peek. Just as he feared, the lithe brunette was already staring in their direction. He mused that in other circumstances, she would have been very appealing to him. Of course those circumstances excluded dark magic, hunger for power and being a centuries old hag. Her eyes locked onto his in the waning light and she smiled a humorless smirk. Quickly, Dean scampered back into his hiding place, screwing his eyes shut and holding his breath.

"Come out and we will kill you quickly," a soft tenor sounded out into the room, as William, the middle child and only male of the Hathorne Clan, made his presence known to the brothers. "Which is more than you deserve."

"Nonsense, dear brother. I'd like to have some fun with Dean. He looks like he'd be a lot of fun, right Dean?" Sarah's suggestive tone aside, both men knew that it would be zero fun for the Winchesters.

"Sorry, sweetheart. Evil skank is hardly my type." Dean's voice didn't betray the sinking feeling that was bubbling up in his stomach. They were outnumbered, out gunned and he needed to get to the weapon's cache in the Impala to even begin to even the odds.

"Evil? Well Dean, I'm hurt. You know absolutely nothing about me. We've kept to ourselves, not bothering a soul. What's evil about that? Hypocrites and naysayers, that's all the Men of Letters ever were. Who in this room can say that they haven't been touched by at least a little darkness?"

Sam's heart thundered in his chest, he knew what she was referring to. They all had their Demons, his brother's was quite literal. But even as he felt the slightest pang of sympathy, a thundering crack and blinding flash of lightning shook the room and movement in his right peripheral spurred him into action as he fired the last round at the quickly moving shadow.

The shadow screeched an inhuman wail and at his feet, fell the rapidly changing form of a feline familiar. Blood gushed from a head wound as the black cat turned into a small female, fiery crimson hair nearly the color of the leaking orifice in her cranium. She never even whimpered as the green in her eyes paled and lost all life. Elizabeth Hathorne, the youngest sibling, lay dead within arm’s reach.

Two things happened next: Sarah let out a scream that shattered the nearby windows and the objects in the room began to move in a whirlwind of destruction. The gale force winds of the outside storm, no longer kept at bay by glass barriers, added freezing rainwater to the onslaught. Sam braced his hands on the mirror. It was violently shaking and trying to spin on its hinged axis. Dean spun around and forced his shoulder up against the relic and lifted a foot to the wall that was in front of him. Muscles strained and friction burns added to the difficulty of keeping the object still; it was like trying to stop a windmill in a hurricane.

Another clap from Mother Nature and Sam's wet fingers slipped, causing Dean to lose his footing and fall to the slippery hardwood. Objects in the room continued rotate like caught in the drain pool of an enormous bathtub and the room sizzled with electricity. Rolling on to his stomach, Dean saw the source of the charged atmosphere as blue lighting crackled from Sarah's finger tips. Grabbing his brother by the arm, he used a booted foot to sweep Sam's feet out from under him and dumping him unceremoniously in a pile next to him. Before Sam could even protest, the oldest Winchester shoved his head to the floor, out of the wobbling mirror's path. The object only missed by a couple of inches as he felt the air from it graze his ear as it continued to turn.

After the mirror completed a 180 degree turn, Sam jammed his foot in between the frame and mirror, effectively stopping its movement and exposing the reflective side to their opponents. William cried out as force lightning bounced back and struck him squarely in the chest. He dropped like a stone and all of the objects in the room were released.

Sarah dropped to her knees in front of her brother, a scorch mark darkening the front of his shirt as she cradled his head in her lap. Dean didn't even think, he didn't need to. He pulled an Angel Blade from his inner jacket pocket and hurled it with such force and precision that an Olympic Javelin thrower would have been jealous. Sinking deep into her throat, the blade severed her carotid artery and shattered her windpipe. She would not be launching a counter attack.

Not wasting anytime, Dean rose to his feet and offered a hand to Sam. Sam had already dislodged himself from the mirror and took ahold of his brother's hand as he made himself vertical. Cautiously, the brothers peered around their barricade. Sarah lay in a pool of red, eyes still open staring at the ceiling. But those eyes were not seeing anything, at least not on this earth. Dean wondered absently if Witches went straight to hell or Purgatory. It really didn't matter as he was not planning to ever visit either place again.

The wind and rain still whipped through the room, but had lost the ferocity that it had had, and walking to the dead siblings was no more challenging than a stroll on a windy day. Dean reached William first as he felt for a pulse that he was sure wasn't there. Confirming his assessment, he placed a boot heel on Sarah's chest and retrieved his blade; and wiped it on her shirt tail before placing it inside his pocket.

Sam had sank to his knees and surveyed the lithe body that was in front of him. What if Sarah had been right? What if coming here was a mistake and they killed four people who didn't deserve it? He gently closed her eyes and brushed a lock of red hair out of her face. The bullet didn't have an exit wound and Sam surmised that it was lodged. The entry wound only slightly marring the features of the beautiful girl, that looked to be only 20. He knew she was much older, but that didn't stop his heart from clenching.

Dean silently stood a foot away as Sam dusted his hands and rose. "Are you okay?" His voice sounded odd as he finally asked the only question that really matter.

"Yeah, I think so." Sam nodded a little, adrenaline leaving his body and doing a mental checklist of injuries.

"Good," was the only answer that came as his older brother patted his shoulder and started to move toward the door. Another thunderclap sounded as lightening flooded the room, striking the mirror that Dean was dangerously close to. Sam flung his body into his brother's as he forced them both to the ground as he heard glass shatter.

*****

Light filtered into the room through gauzy curtains as Sam Winchester roused from sleep. He was keenly aware that his muscles and head hurt, not remembering where he was. He must have slept hard. Realization flooded in as he thought several thoughts at once. The bunker didn't have windows in the bedrooms, they had been on a case in Connecticut, and finally that something heavy was laying on his left leg. He opened his eyes and looked down to find Dean laying perpendicular to him, facedown and using Sam's thigh as a pillow.

"Dean?" He tried as he surveyed the rest of his surroundings. They were in large room, much like the one that they had sought refuge from the Hathornes in. Like that room, white sheets covered its furnishings and three large, floor to ceiling windows adorned the wall to the outside. Sitting up, he jostled his sleeping sibling and spoke louder. "Dean!"

His brother groaned and buried his face further into Sam’s knee and replied, "Five more minutes?"

Sam jerked his leg and Dean thudded onto the hardwood. "Dean wake up, now."

Rising up onto forearms and a very angry scowl on his face, he opened his eyes. Turning his head the 45 degrees to his brother, Dean took in his current position and let out an angry growl. "Sam, what the hell?"

"You were sleeping on my leg," Sam said matter of factly, trying to move the tingling limb that need circulation.

"Not that! What happened?" The younger man heard the impatience coming out in Dean's voice and shook his head.

"Well, we were in Connecticut. Then running from our lives, as usual." Sam thought for a few seconds, the events of the previous night flooding his brain as spoke again. "After dispatching the Hathornes, lightning struck the mirror and I shoved you out of the way. Then I woke up in here, you using me as a human pillow."

Dean sat up on his haunches and gave the room another once over. "Sam, that room was wrecked."

"I know, the windows blown out and furniture destroyed." He looked at the object to his right and noticed it looked like the mirror, covered again. Rising to his feet, Sam approached it slowly. He pulled at the dust cover and had his suspicions confirmed. There was his reflection in the century old glass. It was tarnished and dark around the edges, with a small crack at the top. He ran an experimental finger over the blemish, noting how it seemed to be inside the glass.

"So where are the Halliwells?" Dean's eyes meeting his in the mirror. "Or their bodies?"

Sam’s eyebrows raised at the Charmed reference. “Seriously?”

“What?” Dean defended. “They were hot! Man, if only all witches looked like Alyssa Milano...”

Sam rolled his eyes, “Let’s just get out while we can.”

The brothers didn't meet any resistance as they followed the empty corridors of the manor. Wasting no time in finding the outside exit and heading through the yard to the driveway where the Impala was parked.

As soon as the gravel path became visible, Dean tensed up. "Oh hell no!" He took off in a sprint and sank to the ground at the empty spot where the Impala had been parked. "I'm gonna throw up."

Sam looked around the yard. The day was heavily overcast and not even a breeze was blowing. "Dean, something's wrong."

"You're damn right something's wrong. My Baby is gone!" Deans voice was an octave higher as he fought off the panic that came from losing his most prized possession. The black 1967 Impala was the one thing that Dean had that was his own. It had been his home for years, his refuge. It was a safe port in a dangerous world and the only other thing besides Sam left in the world that Dean loved.

"No, listen..." Sam started, noticing the desperate glare he received in return.

"No YOU listen." Dean's angry voice interrupted as he got to his feet.

Sam held a hand to silence his agitated sibling. "That's not what I meant... _listen_. Do you hear anything? Birds, cars on the Highway or even leaves rustling?"

Dean stopped for a moment as he forced his heart rate down. After willing the rush of blood to stop overtaking his hearing, his hunter's instincts took over and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.

"Impala's Lowjacked, we'll find it" Sam pulled his phone out and groaned. The screen was shattered.

After seeing Sam's damaged phone, Dean jerked his from his pocket. "No service." He picked up a handful of gravel and flung it towards the direction of the house. "Oh come on!" He yelled at no one in particular and grabbed Sam's jacket sleeve.

"Where are we going?" Sam asked. The town was several miles away and the day was beginning to heat up, even without the sun out.

"We are walking back to town, finding a signal. Then I'm finding my damn car and kicking whoever's ass that took it!"

Sam spent the entire walk into the town, afraid that his brother was going to come unglued.

Upon arriving at the town of Hathorne's city limit sign, Sam stopped. "Hey, try your phone."

Dean nodded, calmer than before. Pulling the phone from his pocket he thumbed the home button. "Still no service."

"Well if we can find somewhere with WiFi, we can make a call that way. And track the Impala."

"So where to? Starbucks?"

"I was thinking Police Station. Got your badge?" Dean patted his jacket and nodded a yes. He always carried the fake FBI badge, because he never knew when it would come in handy. "Then lets go."

After walking in front several paces, Dean turned to Sam ask what their play was once they reached the Police Station. "Hey Sammy," but he was alone. Going into panic mode he turned completely around. "Sam!" His voice higher and strained. The road was empty and there was nowhere that Sam could have gone. That didn't stop him from turning around and running back the way he had come. When he reached the sign, he pushed back the fear of losing Sam to take in his surroundings. He never even smelled the sulfur or felt the blow to his head.

*****

Sam had been walking beside Dean when a small sound made him stop. It sounded like a heavy foot step right behind him. That's when everything got dark. When he woke, he was no longer on the road. He was in a room that was dark and suffocating. The red cast that seemed to tinge the objects in the room made Sam's stomach lurch. He wasn’t sure where he was, but it felt suspiciously like hell. At the end of the room was a door and whatever that was behind it, made his skin crawl. Goosebumps prickled his skin and every fiber of his being told him to run the opposite direction. What if Dean was behind that door? What if he was hurt? He was going to kick Crowley's ass. He shoved every emotion down and started towards the door.

When he reached the archway, the ancient looking portal loomed in front of him. It was black and huge with carvings that would have given Dante nightmares. Reaching a tentative hand out towards the door, he noticed that it was made of something hard and smooth, almost like marble. He straightened his shoulders and took hold of the handle, after all he wasn't there to appreciate the architecture. The door opened with a heavy groan and he saw the back of what appeared to be a throne. Other than that, the room was empty.

Sam quietly walked up behind the throne. "Crowley, I swear..." but the face he saw when he circled the chair wasn't Crowley. His heart leapt into his throat as he stared back at himself.

"Hello Sam," his voice said back to him. Him/not him smiled and his eyes flashed yellow. "Welcome to hell."

*****

Dean woke up alone and with a killer headache. He sat up on a bed with black sheets and a low light glowing in the corner. He was thirsty, dizzy and probably concussed. He needed to find Sam. The door to his right swung open and he reached for his weapons. They were gone.

A dark figure strode into the room and Dean didn't wait to see who his visitor was. "Where's Sam? And where the hell am I?"

"First things first," an oddly familiar, deep voice said, "you are in my bedroom..." Dean glanced around at the room. A huge bed without a head or footboard, covered in black satin sheets, he ran his hand over them. Silk, they were silk sheets. The walls were windowless, painted black with a large black wardrobe being the only other adornment. It looked like a playroom.

"Look buddy, I don't judge. But I'm not interested. Where's my brother?" Despite his headache, he quickly stood and started towards the voice, when he found himself frozen in place.

"Your brother is with my brother. And fighting me is ill advised." The figure stepped into the light and Dean felt his anger spike. The Son of a Bitch had his face.

"I know I'm a looker, but really? I mean, I'd want to look like me, too. But be true to yourself. Buy a self-help book, get a hobby..." he looked around the room again. "Well, a different hobby."

Not!Dean flashed a toothy smile and took another step closer. His hair was slightly longer, a thin beard covered his face but it was still his face. He gestured and whatever invisible force that was holding Dean let go. Nausea took over and he stumbled to one knee. "Well the way I see it, you have my face. You're not a shifter or anything supernatural, I tested. So, what are you?”

"Show me yours, I'll show you mine? I'm human, jackass. What are you?” Dean's courage was waning. He wasn't afraid of much, but the few times he had happened upon himself, things had ended badly. The shifter in St. Louis, the demon that Jeremy Frost had planted in his dream, himself in Zachariah's post apocalyptic future... each one had scared Dean more than any monster ever could.

Not!Dean's eyes flashed black and Dean felt his stomach turn. His own stint as a Demon had left a painful memory etched into his brain. But his Demon self hadn't had powers, not yet anyway. He was content to drink, fight and screw 24/7. "I'm a demon, jackass," His tone wasn't condescending or even angry. He pulled a shiny object from his pocket and let the light reflect off of it. "Angel Blade? Not easy to come by. Where did you get it?"

"I got that with 1000 tickets at Plucky Pennywhistle's. Angel Blade?" He laughed.

"I'm not going to ask again." Demon!Dean's voice became low and his human counterpart knew that this wasn't a game.

"Cas gave it to me. But if you were me, you'd know that."

"Cas? As in Castiel? 'I gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,’ Castiel? Why would he do such a thing? Interesting..." Demon!Dean spun the blade in his hand.

*****

"Sam, I'm not going to hurt you." Yellow Eyed Sam spoke with a gentle voice. His eyes were back to Hazel and the tone he was using was one Sam recognized as one he used on victims and scared relatives.

"Then where's Dean? What did you do with my brother?" Sam could feel in the pit of his stomach that this was really him. Or the Demon version. He wondered about the eyes though. Was it a side effect of Demon Blood, or something else?

"Dean is fine. Maybe a mild concussion, my brother tends to play too rough. Breaks a lot of toys." Demon!Sam fixed Human!Sam with a stare.

"My brother is not a toy!" Sam could feel himself getting angry.

"Relax," Demon!Sam waved his hand. "My brother, Dean, is just having a chat with him. Then I'll take you to him. But first, I'm interested in how you got here, and why you are still human in your world."

Sam told Demon!Sam about the mirror and the witches. His counterpart listening attentively and quietly. When he came to the end of his story, he asked, "How did you even know where to find me?"

"I had a vision." He tapped his temple and Sam understood. He had had his fair share before Azazel died.

*****

"So, in your world, Castiel...Cas is a friend of yours?" Demon!Dean seemed genuinely surprised.

"If I answer, will you take me to Sam?" Dean knew that lying wasn't an option. How did you lie to the mirror? And if he really was stuck in Bizarro World, then outing Cas as an ally wasn't going to hurt their Cas.

"Maybe. But if you don't answer, I can guarantee I won't." Demon!Dean answered and leaned back against the doorframe, crossing his arms.

"Then, yes. He's a friend. Can I please see my brother now?" Dean rarely said please. He knew that his demonic self probably knew that.

"This way." Dean stepped out of the room into the hall. He gasped as he recognized The Men of Letter's hallway leading from his own room. The library seemed intact and everything else seemed in place.

"How are you even in here?" Dean asked glancing around, nervously.

"We removed the Demon warding. The King of Hell isn't someone to be crossed." Demon!Dean said and gestured to a seat in the library. "And I hate Hell!"

"What? You let Crowley just waltz right in?" Dean couldn't believe his ears. He didn't trust Crowley, even when Dean was a Demon.

"Crowley? Crowley is only King of the Crossroad's." Demon!Dean smiled as he realized the implications of his next words. "Sam is the King of Hell."


	2. Down The Rabbit Hole

"When I killed Lilith, breaking the last seal and starting the apocolypse, Dean and I got trapped in that church. Lucifer rose, and tortured Dean for weeks, trying to force me to say yes." Demon!Sam began his story as Sam sat on the steps by the throne.

"Did you?" Sam asked tentatively. He desperately wanted to know what had happened that had caused his counterpart to become a demon.

"Did you?" Demon!Sam eyed the human, curiously.

Sam nodded. He cast his eyes down at his shoes as he waited for the other man to continue. Emotions bubbled to the surface as he remembered his year in hell.

"I can't wait to hear that story. I said 'No.' Lucifer killed Dean and his soul went back to hell, and the rack. I was so angry that I drank gallons of demon blood and stormed hell. I fought my way into hell, but what I found was not what I expected. In the 30 days that it took me to get to Dean, he had changed. He immediately picked up a blade and became hell's chief torturer." Sam gasped at this news. "You do what you have to sometimes." Demon!Sam explained.

"When I finally got to him, I was captured and put on the rack. But humans can't survive those kinds of torture for very long and my human body died. What they didn't count on was the fact that my legacy and my years of demon blood had already twisted my soul. I woke up with yellow eyes and was the strongest Demon in hell."

"Dean had already killed 1/3 of hell when I died. He said he didn't care about me and wanted to kill me himself, but before I woke up, he locked himself in this room and trashed the place. Hell was unorganized and leaderless, Crowley and the other crossroads demons were fighting for dominance. It wasn't hard to waltz in and take the throne. With my brother as my right hand, we restored order and then went topside."

"Lucifer had already burned through 2 vessels and proved difficult to catch. We finally caught up to him in Detroit and instead of saying yes, I killed him."

"Wait..." Sam interrupted. "Lucifer is gone?"

"And his brothers. Except Gabriel, who is still hiding as The Trickster." Demon!Sam smiled humorlessly.

"And the others?"

"Michael, Raphael and the rest of the God squad cornered us in a little town in Kansas. The fight was brutal and Dean and I were the only two to walk off the battle field. Well, limped off. Castiel took control of Heaven and as far as I know, he still controls it."

"So Cas is in charge of Heaven? That didn't work out so well in our timeline." Sam cringed at the memory of his friend, full of Purgatory's Souls and his vessel rotting away. When he had exploded into that lake, his brother had nearly drank himself into a coma.

"Yes. They leave us alone, we leave them alone. There's the occasional fight, but as a whole our paths never cross," Demon!Sam rose from his seat and offered a hand to his doppelgänger. "Come on, I'll take you to your Dean." He snapped his fingers, Sam recognized the room they were in instantly. They were in the bunker's library.

Dean had been in a staring contest with his likeness when the two Sams had shown up. He had refused anymore questions and Demon!Dean refused to tell him anything until his brother showed up. They were both nursing a glass of whiskey and studying each other’s face. The latter had his ankles crossed, feet on the library's table as the former stood with his back against a large stone pillar.

Dean straightened a little at the new arrivals and Demon!Dean's eyes flashed black. After catching the human Dean up on the "road so far," Demon!Sam sank into a chair across from his likeness and continued with their very different time line.

***

"Wait..." Dean frowned as something became apparent to him. "You teleported..." he looked pointedly at Demon!Dean and awaited the answer to that question. Black eyed Demons didn't teleport, not in his universe.

The sinking feeling in his stomach was confirmed when Demon!Dean jerked his thumbs back and said, "Knight of Hell, jackass."

"But how did you get the Mark? It's what turned him," Sam nodded at his brother, "into a demon."

Demon!Sam waved the question off, "I'm getting to that. After we cleaned up hell and came topside, Abbadon reappeared and was making things a little tough for us. Crowley and Dean tracked down Cain and convinced him to give up the Mark. Dean killed Cain and then Abbadon ."

Dean remembered  too well the burn of the Mark. It's insatiable thirst for blood and death. He absentmindedly rubbed the skin where it used to be. "How are you controlling the blood lust?" He let the simple question roll off his tongue before he could stop it.

"Who says I am?" Demon!Dean bared his teeth and Dean shuddered. 'This is what he looked like?' The thought turned his stomach sour and he thought he'd be sick. The anger and hate that was bubbling to the surface in his mirror image was enough to make anyone acquiesce to him.

"We hunt. We kill rogue Demons and SPN creatures that are causing trouble. It barely takes the edge off, but Dean there has other coping mechanisms. Right, Dean?" Demon!Sam turned towards his brother and the older man dropped his eyes down. Apparently this was a sore spot for the brothers in this universe.

"Why not get rid of it?" Dean asked? He didn't know if their counterparts even knew if it was possible.

"Why? So I can become a pathetic sack of self loathing and guilt again? No thanks, Deano!" He took a long sip of his whiskey and said, "look at yourself. All cured and still barely hanging on to your humanity. So you drink, and you medicate and you move on to one meaningless hookup after another. And for what? To say you are Human?" Demon!Dean dropped his feet and leaned across the table, "spoiler alert, I'm already dead. And my brother and I run hell. So keep your humanity to yourself. I don't want to catch any of that."

Dean visibly swallowed. He knew some of the things the Knight was saying were true, but he also knew that his shred of humanity was worth more than being the ruler of Heaven or Hell. And seeing his younger brother's eyes flash yellow at Demon!Dean's rising anger broke his heart. He'd give his humanity 1000 times for Sam's. True, it wasn't his Sam, but those dimples and soft eyes were still that of his brother.

"Alright," Sam spoke up before the tension in the room became anymore palatable. "We can continue this pissing contest, or we can find a way to get us home and you two can go back to... whatever it is you two do. "

"Or we can just lock you both in hell." Demon!Dean's smug smile was enough to get a rise out of Dean.

"Come on, you know that's going to raise a lot of questions. Someone will figure it out and then there will be universe hopping and it'll just be a mess." Dean tried diplomacy.

"We could just kill you both," Demon!Sam's lips curled into a humorless smirk, causing the room's other three occupants to turn towards him. Sam tensed as he prepared to defend himself from the turn of events and Demon!Sam laughed. "I'm just messing with you. We have no idea what damage that could do. My premonitions aren't always clear, but I know that killing you isn't the right course of action. At least not yet."

"I suggest we split up and do some research. I'll go with you." Demon!Sam pointed at human Dean, "and you two," he gestured between the two remaining men, "go see if you can check that mirror out."

"Now wait a minute," Dean stepped towards the table, "what keeps Psycho Sid here from hurting my brother?" His words caused Demon!Dean to rise from his seat and glare at the human.

Raised voices quickly erupted as the two Dean's shouted slurs and profanities at each other. Sam tried to reason with his Dean and then Demon!Sam snapped his fingers, "STOP. IT. NOW!" The room was silenced as the three men's voices suddenly disappeared.

"Now, that's better." Demon!Sam was very pleased with himself. "Okay, we are not letting you two out on your own. That's a given. Staying with us would raise too many questions and we will cover more ground if we split up. We can both teleport and our Demon powers will make the two of you less conspicuous. Dean?" He addressed the human version. Voiceless Dean nodded that he had his attention. "Demon you is a dick. I can't risk letting anyone see you out, if you showed any other emotion than anger, it would be bad. Our world exists on that delicate line between fear and respect." Dean nodded again, he understood that at least.

"Sam?" He turned to human Sam. "I am less volatile than Dean." Demon!Dean crossed his arms and stood taller, he was clearly getting pissed. "But I am stronger. And I am still the King of Hell and Dean won't hurt you, because an order is still an order." Sam nodded that he understood. "Now if I give your voices back, no arguments." He snapped his fingers and Dean let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

  
****

"Mirror, mirror on the wall, who's the baddest demon of them all?" Demon!Dean muttered as he stared at his reflection in the ancient glass. Sam was crouched behind the antique as he looked for warding or spell work. He only found two small notches in the frame and took out a piece of paper to do an etching.

"Why don't we just take the mirror back to the bunker, Alice?" Demon!Dean suggested as he watched his not brother fold the paper into a square and put it in his pocket.

"Because we don't know if it's the mirror or the location or any combination of those things." Sam reasoned as he headed for the door. "Now, I bet that big library has some clue as to what this mirror is or does, or if it's just a plain old looking glass."

"I didn't sign up for research. I could give a rat's ass if you ever make it back." Demon!Dean spoke as he followed Sam into the hallway.

"But your brother cares. And I almost forgot what a dick Demon you really is." He sighed and turned the corner going deeper into the mansion.

"The Boy King said I couldn't kill you. But a few broken bones would probably not get me into much trouble. And I like a little punishment, every once in a while." His smile was filthy and his eyes flashed black as he made his way into the Study where Sam was already taking in the titles on a very large shelf.

"Actually, he said that you wouldn't hurt me." Sam never took his eyes off the titles as he spoke over his shoulder.

"Did your Dean actually chase you with a hammer?" Demon!Dean asked as he dropped into a chair in the library.

"Yes. And it was unpleasant to say the least. If Cas hadn't shown up..." Sam's voice wavered as he the memories of the cat and mouse game through the bunker crept into his thoughts.

"Cas on the same side, that's still funny to me. Those winged dick monkeys are nothing but trouble." Demon!Dean propped his feet up as Sam reached for a very old Tome.

"That's what I don't get, how are you two functioning still as brothers? Our Demon selves didn't care about family or anything really." Sam asked, dropping into a chair across the table from his companion.

"You call that functioning?" Demon!Dean snorted. "He gives the orders concerning hell and I listen. I give the orders in the bedroom, mostly. Your Dean tried to get away from you at first, right? And was best friends with Crowley? I wouldn't trust that dickbag as far as I could throw him.

"Sam’s the only thing I care about, not to mention that whole ‘Ruler of the Underworld’ is hot as fuck. Tell me Sam, where’s that conscience when you’ve got your brother bent over a table in the library?” His voice held genuine curiosity and Sam’s face heated up, but he didn’t answer the question.

  
****

  
"Why isn't there any food here?" Dean slammed the massive refrigerator door and yelled towards the library. They had beer and whiskey and Dean couldn't survive on alcohol alone. He almost could, but not quite.

"Demons don't eat," Demon!Sam scrolled down the pages on his laptop quickly as he read the text fairly quickly.

"You don't sleep either, but 'Dick me' has that massive bed!" Dean grunted to himself as he grabbed a couple of beers and walked back to not Sam. "Demons don't eat...me me me!" Dean mocked as he entered the room. His voice sounding like a cranky child that was up past their bedtime.

Sam closed the laptop and stood up. He handed Dean his jacket and said, "alright, let's get you some food."

With a snap of his fingers the brothers were outside a small diner. "Is this going to cause problems?" Dean eyed the building with increasing scrutiny.

"No, but stay behind me. Be all menacing and crap. Act like my General, not my older brother." Dean nodded, menacing he could do.

The pair pushed the glass door open and heard the jangle of the bells that alerted employees of their arrival. A middle aged woman was behind the counter wearing a waitress uniform that was a horrible shade of pink. "What can I get you boys?"

Demon!Sam smiled, dimples and puppy dog eyes. "I'll have a large Cobb salad, cheeseburger with extra onions and onion rings, to go please."

Dean was nearly salivating in front of the pie display and Demon!Sam sighed. "And a couple of pieces of that pie, Joyce." He read her name tag and smiled again.

"Coming right up." Joyce headed towards the kitchen and Dean whistled and bounced on the balls of his feet, his hands in his pockets.

"Stop it!" Demon!Sam whispered.

"Stop what?" Dean whispered back.

"Stop fidgeting! Demons don't have nervous ticks."

"You think I have nervous ticks? I'm not nervous." Dean held his right hand out and said, "steady as a rock."

Well the Sam Winchester bitchface transcended space and time, as he was met with darkening eyes and a huge scowl.

  
****  
  
Returning a half hour later, Demon!Sam watched as Dean devoured his food in three bites and all but inhaled his pie. It was actually nice to see, his own brother had become a cold, calculating killer. His only pleasure coming from inflicting pain and taking what he wanted, when he wanted. Not that Demon!Sam minded the pain or the brutal sex that happened between them, but he missed the softer side of his brother.  
  
He snapped his fingers and the bag containing the Cobb Salad disappear and Dean surmised that it had found its way to His Sam. He wiped his hands and began thumbing through an old book on magic mirrors and skimmed the page before settling into it. His eyes ghosted over every word as his lips occasionally formed the words that he was committing to memory. Demon!Sam watched him for a few more moments over his computer screen before skimming the words on his own page.

"I didn't know you did research," Demon!Sam's tone was teasing and he spoke without meeting the other's eyes.

Dean gave a mild chuckle and shrugged. "We all do what we have to get by. I suspect you know that better than most."

"Isn't that the truth." Demon!Sam replied thoughtfully.

 

****

  
Back at the Hathorne Estate, Sam Winchester had never been happier to see food in his life. He swallowed the contents of the styrofoam container, barely chewing the raw vegetables.

Demon!Dean still sat rigid at the end of the table. To the untrained eye, he looked like he was relaxing. But Sam saw the strained, taunt muscles and knew that this version of his brother was never relaxed and was even less at peace.

Returning to the old text, Sam made a surprising discovery. "So get this..." when he was sure he had the attention of a less than enthusiastic Demon!Dean, he continued without preamble. "Says here that Esmerelda acquired a mirror from one Charles Dodgson belongings, immediately following his death.”

"Who was this Dodgson? Doesn't ring a bell." The other man shook his head and continued to be less than impressed.

"That's because his pen name was Lewis Carroll." Sam said matter of factly and waited to see if this name meant anything.

"Wait, so that mirror is actually The Wonderland Mirror? I thought that was a huge myth and Carroll or Dodgson or whatever his name was had seizures and migraines that explained his idea for those books. There's even an Alice In Wonderland Syndrome, where the person experiencing a migraine with aura loses depth perception and things appear bigger or smaller than they actually are." Demon!Dean spoke as if he had read that little bit of text just moments before.

Sam was wide eyed as he looked across the table. "Huh. For someone who doesn't like research, looks like you've done your share."

"Years ago, before your psychic whatever, I read a lot about headaches when yours started happening. Some of it must of stuck. " Not Dean replied barely above a whisper. It had seemed like a lifetime ago, their dad missing and his brother developing strange visions and debilitating migraines. Hell, he supposed it was a lifetime ago.

"When did you have time to research headaches? We were together 24/7 or at least in my timeline." The human regarded the demon quietly.

"Mostly when you were sleeping. You'd be wrecked from another nightmare or a vision and I'd still be high on adrenaline and caffeine. I spent most nights watching, waiting for the next episode."

"I never knew that." Sam sat back in his chair. Maybe his Dean and this one weren't so different. At least up until the change.

"Nothing to tell. It's not like the AMA has done any research on drinking demon blood as an infant. Or that there are any sufferers still around to report signs and symptoms." Demon!Dean didn't like the sudden shift in the room's atmosphere and rapped his knuckles on the table. "Let's get this back to the others." He snapped his fingers and the four were once again gathered around the table in the bunker.

"I take it you've found something," Demon!Sam said, barely acknowledging their arrival and finishing the paragraph in front of him.

Sam smiled. "Ever heard of Alice In Wonderland Syndrome?"

"Isn't that where people with migraines lose depth perception? And isn't that what Lewis Carroll had when he wrote Through the Looking Glass?" Dean offered and Sam's smile got bigger.

"What?"

"Another time. Esmerlda acquired a mirror from one Charles Dodgson estate brought it to American before the Civil War." Sam read from the book in his hands.

"Son of a Bitch," Demon!Sam mumbled, "Carroll was his pen name. So The Wonderland Mirror is real?"

"Yahtzee." Demon!Dean spoke for the first time since their arrival.

"Son of a Bitch," Dean swore under his breath. "But our mirror shattered, I heard it just before the lights went out. And Sam touched the mirror, it was old tarnished glass. Nothing enchanted about it."

"Well, I know someone who can help." Demon!Sam stated and looked at his brother.

"He's gonna be pissed, he hates it when we show up unannounced," Demon!Dean grimaced and crossed his arms.

"Alright, we'll call first." Demon!Sam seemed annoyed at the thought of using a phone and Sam and Dean exchanged curious glances with each other.

The phone rang and an annoyed gruff voice picked up. "Hello?"

Human Dean felt his knees go weak as Bobby Singer's voice filled the room. Tears prickled behind his eyes and he turned to a glassy-eyed Sam. Their silent conversation loud and clear to each other: How different was this version of Bobby.

"You’re on Speaker Bobby, we have a small situation. Can I bring you here?" Demon!Sam the King of Hell, asking someone's permission. It would have been hilarious if the human versions weren't reeling from this new revelation.

"Alright." The Demon snapped his fingers and one very agitated man in a Trucker hat appeared before them.

He surveyed the scene. Demon!Sam thumbing the the off on the phone's screen. Demon!Dean standing over his brother's right shoulder, literally at his right hand. His arms were crossed and he looked menacing and scary. Nothing wrong there.

Slightly turning his head, he noticed another Sam and Dean. Dean had a fistful of Sam's jacket, right above his breast pocket, a pained expression on his face, eyes full of tears. Sam had a hand clutching the elbow of his older brother, his expression surprised, but no less pained.

Bobby looked back at the Demon brothers, shaking his head he groaned. "What in the Hell have you two done now?" Both brothers pointed an index finger toward the human pair and Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

Once Bobby had a minute to take in the foursome in the bunker's library, he walked to the table and sat across from the Demon pair. The two human versions were still clutching each other like the pair of frightened children they were when John Winchester showed up on his doorstep 30 some odd years ago. Demon!Dean looked bored and Demon!Sam looked like he was expecting a scolding.

"Well, who is gonna fill me in?" Bobby laid his hat on the table and ran a hand over his face. They didn't make enough alcohol to deal with these two. Or four now. His problems were literally multiplying and the irony was not lost on him.

"Well," Sam spoke first, "there were these witches. And they had this mirror..."

"And let me guess? You broke it?" Bobby gestured in an grandiose manner and sighed.

"Actually," Dean found his voice and looked sheepishly at the man that had been a father to him more times than his own, "lightening struck it." He smiled as if that would exonerate them.

Sam's Hazel eyes looked at the man innocently and the old man's heart thawed. He had all but given up on this universe's Sam and Dean Winchester, but the devil you know and all that. But seeing actual smiles on his surrogate sons' faces brought a smile to his. "Well that makes everything better, doesn't it?"

Dean nodded excitedly and his reflection cleared his throat. "We need to figure out a way to get them home, or you take them or something." Demon!Dean's voice was low and angry.

"Dammit Boy! Knight of Hell or not, I will kick your ass. They aren't pets to be dropped on the side of the road. You know who thought like that? John Winchester." Bobby pounded his fist against the old oak table and Demon!Dean's eyes flashed black.

"I don't have time for this!" Turning on his heel, the older Winchester stomped out of the room and his footsteps could be heard thudding down the hallway.

Demon!Sam watched with a careful glance, not saying anything. "He's getting worse..." Bobby started and the King of Hell cleared his throat, cutting the conversation off.

Sam and Dean looked at each other pointedly. How much worse could a demon get?

****

After filling Bobby in on their changing timeline, the boys were pleasantly surprised that this Bobby and their Bobby were actually very much alike. Except that this Bobby was actually still breathing.

The human brothers didn't miss the look that Demon!Sam gave Bobby when the brothers got to the part about curing Dean or getting rid of the Mark.

They spent hours pouring over books and journals. They bounced ideas back and forth about what they knew about Dodgson and the mirror.

"The myth was always that Alice was the source of the mirror's power." Bobby steepled his fingers together and let out breath.

"I thought that Carroll suffered from migraines and seizures. That his battle with that and depression, coupled with whatever way he was dealing caused him to hallucinate. Most likely alcohol or laudanum?" Dean asked the old man.

"Dodgson was most likely not suffering from migraines. They were probably visions or premonitions, and Alice was probably unknowingly projecting them." Bobby swallowed.

"But Alice was just a little girl. She was the inspiration for the books, but she essentially dropped off the face of the Earth after Dodgson cut ties with the family." Demon!Sam stated, trying to make sense of how a little girl could be the center of all of this.

"Best guess, Alice was a born natural psychic or had other natural gifts. It happens, rarely and probably forced her into seclusion upon reaching adulthood. Untrained and undeveloped, those powers can be harmful or fatal to innocent bystanders." Bobby explained. And the three boys nodded. They had ran into psychics before, so they knew those people existed.

"So, million dollar question. How do we find out about a hypothetical psychic that's likely been dead for 100 years." Demon!Sam asked.

"Wait..." Dean thought for a moment. "Alice didn't drop off the face of the Earth. She married a cricketer." Sam looked at his brother like he had grown another head. "At least in our timeline. PBS, man."

"So which Alice screwed up the mirror? If she made a mirror that could cross planes of existence, only one mirror out of the theoretical billions has to be enchanted." Sam screwed his eyes shut, speaking of headaches.

"You know, angels have that kind of juice. We can always ask Cas." Dean suggested. If this Cas was alive, and no reason to believe otherwise, he could help.

"No!" Demon!Dean voice thundered from the doorway and the long absent brother strode purposefully into the room. "No angels, no other outside help. We five fix this, or it stays broken."

"You have no idea what having these two here could be doing to our own timelines." Demon!Sam briefly flashed his eyes at his brother. The older man's nostrils flared and teeth bared. Surprisingly his eyes remained green, but fury burning in them.

"Why are you still so dead set on saving the world?" The vein Demon!Dean's forehead protruded and heat rose up his neck.

The yellow eyed brother stood from his seat, purposefully looking down on his sibling and screamed, "Why do want to just watch it burn?"

Demon!Dean's eyes flashed black and he shoved the younger man into the table pushing his forearm to his throat. "Dean, Stop!" Bobby's voice rang out over the room and the two human brothers dropped to the floor beneath the other table to watch from a safe distance.

Sam got an idea and crawled out behind Demon!Dean and started scribbling a Devils trap onto the concrete. Human Dean walked around to the other side of the table with his hands up in a placating manner. He just needed to distract the Knight of Hell long enough for the trap to be drawn. "Hey," he spoke calmly and evenly, as if speaking to a wild animal. "Let's take a breath, we aren't calling anyone for help, but we all need to be on the same side."

Demon!Dean pulled the First Blade from the back of his belt and held it over his brother. The Mark pulsing, practically begging him to use it. And that's when Demon!Sam flicked his wrist and sent the man tumbling back on his back and straight into the devils trap.

Hissing and gnashing teeth, the demon realized that he was trapped and let out an animalistic growl that shook the library.

The other four occupants of the library went back to reading, while Demon!Dean paced the inside of the circle and sent murderous glares at the other men.

This was getting them exactly nowhere...

 


End file.
